COLUMN - Off the leash

Thursday

Jun 26, 2008 at 12:01 AMJun 26, 2008 at 11:58 PM

Every spring, I begin looking forward to the relaxing days of summer. But each summer, I get way too excited about the weather, book too many weekend trips and evening dinners, and suddenly, I have just as many commitments as any other season in the city.

But a few weeks ago, I found a new escape in my own back yard, so to speak.

I was out for my morning jog in Prospect Park, Brooklyn’s cousin to Manhattan’s Central Park, down the street from my apartment. But where I was jogging on that particular morning, something seemed different. The park was much busier than usual — not with people but with dogs.

Anna Vander Broek

Every spring, I begin looking forward to the relaxing days of summer. But each summer, I get way too excited about the weather, book too many weekend trips and evening dinners, and suddenly, I have just as many commitments as any other season in the city.

But a few weeks ago, I found a new escape in my own back yard, so to speak.
I was out for my morning jog in Prospect Park, Brooklyn’s cousin to Manhattan’s Central Park, down the street from my apartment. But where I was jogging on that particular morning, something seemed different. The park was much busier than usual — not with people but with dogs.

I decided to veer off the safety of the road and head down the gravel path that cuts through the grass. The scene I stumbled upon was not what I would’ve imagined in Prospect Park this early in the day. I have never seen so many happy dogs in my life — a white husky burst out of the woods with a gigantic stick in her mouth, her owner lounged on a blanket nearby; a black pug rolled ecstatically on his back in the grass while his caretaker enjoyed a cup of coffee on a nearby bench.

This area of the park was so active with dogs that I had to remind myself I was in a park in Brooklyn, not at the Westminster dog show.

While I watched the dogs prance, I was slow to realize what was so different about this scene compared to a busy Saturday afternoon in the park — beyond the fact, of course, that it wasn’t even 7 a.m. After all, everybody knows New Yorkers love their dogs.

But then a joyous golden retriever came panting right up to me and licked my hand. Her owner nervously rushed over and pulled the dog away, gently scolding him about “behaving badly during off-leash hours.” Of course! The scene seemed strange because the dogs were free from their leashes — taboo for city dogs during the day. I remembered that between 9 p.m. and 9 a.m., Prospect Park has off-leash hours, so even New York dogs can race around, play catch and eat sticks, leashless like their cousins in the country.

As I happily watched a Weimaraner sunning himself, I, too, suddenly felt just as free as these dogs. It was 6:30 a.m. in late June, the sun was up and radiating heat as if it were midday, and I had nothing to do for three full hours. No one had e-mailed or called me about anything I needed to do during the day. No one was expecting me to call them. I didn’t have to do lunch or meet anyone for drinks after work. I didn’t even have to cook a meal beyond pouring the milk over my cereal. And even if I had wanted to run errands, nothing was open.

I realized that my leash had been unhooked and I could run anywhere in the park I pleased, and no one would know where I was or what I was doing, or ask anything of me.

Now, each morning as I jog, I make sure to veer off the paved path so I can catch a glimpse of the off-leash dogs running around in the grass while the rest of the world is still waking up.